


Castiel and Dean, Sitting In A Tree...

by casbean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, First Kiss, Fluff, High School, Jock!Dean, M/M, nerd!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 15:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5211038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casbean/pseuds/casbean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another high school story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Castiel and Dean, Sitting In A Tree...

“ _Castiel and Dean, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…_ ”

Cas quickly pulls away from where his shoulder was pressed against Dean, both their heads ducked towards one another to hide the uncontrollable giggling that has taken them over when Cas drew that (slightly) naughty sketch on the corner of Dean’s page.

But the moment the song resonates in the classroom their laughter dies on their lips. Cas turns away, cheeks burning, quickly assembling his stuff and shoving it in his bag. He hears Dean scolding his friends but doesn’t linger long enough to witness the rest of the scene, running out of the room as soon as the bell rings.

Ever since he and Dean were put together on a project, a few weeks ago, and became something like _friends_ , Dean’s noisy pack of buddies have been following them around singing that stupid childish song every time they’re seen together. They’re in high school for fuck’s sake, and Cas really thought that in this day and age people would have gotten over the silly stereotype of the jock falling in love with the nerd (which is totally not what is happening here), but apparently that was expecting too much.

Now Dean can’t even come talk to Cas with his shoulder nonchalantly leaned against his locker without the whole school joining in the freaking chorus, and the both of them parting equally flustered and embarrassed.

 

Cas has started tutoring Dean once a week, at his request, because Dean hopes to eventually get a college scholarship and he seems to think that Cas is the smartest kid in school (which he isn’t, but it’s nice to get to spend some time alone with him in a place where chanting is prohibited).

It’s during one of their late nights at the library, on a cold October night, that Dean leans over and whispers to Cas that he likes his sweater.

It’s one of the terrible, bright red with yellow, white and green patterns sweaters that Castiel’s mom knits for him every Christmas. This one has a big skewed owl with a bow on the forehead on the front, and the same owl but seen from the back on the back. It’s horrible but Castiel’s mom spends a lot of time on them every year, and it makes her smile wide every time Cas wears them out the door. Plus, the school is full of freezing drafts during the winter, and those sweaters are heavenly warm.

“Stop mocking me,” Cas says, because despite how ugly those sweaters are, he still likes them a lot. “My mom makes them.”

“I’m not mocking,” Dean replies, and Cas’ eyes jump up because his tone sounds so sincere. “It’s like Ron’s mom does, in Harry Potter.”

Cas can’t really believe his ears - has Dean Winchester actually read Harry Potter? - but Dean doesn’t even seem to realize what he just did. It came out very naturally.

“I - I think they’re cool. They make you look…” The corner of Dean’s mouth twitch up and his cheeks colour, and he leans back a little, like suddenly embarrassed. “I think it’s nice that your mom makes you stuff like that,” he mumbles.

“Does your mom have any traditional Christmas gifts for you?” Cas asks, because his heart is fluttering, and he doesn’t want Dean to hear it in the thick silence of the library. A shadow suddenly passes on Dean’s face and his eyes darken.

“No,” he says. “She’s not…” He glances away, like to escape, and then seems to calm down and leans back slightly towards Cas, shoulders slumped down. “She died when I was four.”  

Cas’ fingers curl up around his books, tingling with the longing to stretch out and touch him, wrap his fingers around Dean’s hand and hold him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs instead.

They don’t talk much after that, but Dean seems to think it’s enough.

  
The week before Christmas break, Cas waits until the very end of their tutoring session, when the library is completely empty, and slides a soft package towards Dean’s end of the table. The boy looks up with questioning eyes, and Cas, heart beating hard in his chest, tells him it’s for him.

Dean seems a little flushed as he unties the linen rope, and is definitely bright red when he unfolds the garish, bright green sweater contained in the craft paper. It has a D knitted on the front, decorated with a ridiculous amount of tiny Christmas pine trees, candy canes and gingerbread cookies. It looks positively awful, and Cas feels ashamed of even giving it to him, and he doesn’t even remember why he thought it would be a good idea to ask his mom to -

“Cas…” Dean murmurs, voice hoarse by emotion.

“I know, it’s terrible, but-”

 “No.”

Cas’ heart jumps up when he feels Dean’s arms wrapping around his shoulders. He’s pushed back his chair and has basically jumped over the table before Cas could stop him. It only lasts for a second, only long enough for Dean to murmur “thanks” against the skin of his neck.

Dean wears the sweater the next day, and beams proudly when he sits next to Cas in math class. Cas’ brothers have joined into the choir by then. 

“ _Castiel and Dean, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…_ ”

 

It’s when they really start spending time together during school, eating lunch together or lingering on the front porch at the end of the day, that the singing begins to spin out of control. Not only is the whole school joining, but Charlie, their only common friend, has noticed that Cas does indeed have feelings for Dean beyond friendship, feelings that he does everything to hide whenever he’s around him or his friends (but that his stupid body betrays by flaming his cheeks bright red and making his heart feel about to explode in his chest).

She keeps teasing him about it, only making Cas’ embarrassment grow, and soon whenever the song rings out in the hallways - or whenever Dean is near him, in fact - Cas transforms into a ridiculous ball of blushing, flustered stuttering. He hates himself for it, and misses the time they were just friends, and he didn’t have all those feelings, and that song meant nothing, instead of ringing in his ears as the chorus of his most profound and unattainable desire.

Dean seems to also grow more and more annoyed at his friends’ behaviour. He seems increasingly tense around Cas as the winter ends and spring sets in (although he does wear the sweater for several weeks after the return from Christmas break, up until the change of weather doesn’t allow it anymore), he starts responding to the singing and teasing on a range from telling them to either “give it a rest, guys” to yelling “shut the fuck up already”, depending on his mood.

 

“ _Castiel and Dean, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…_ ”

Cas startles, heat spreading up his neck and cheeks, pulling away from Dean quickly. They’re the last two left in the classroom, plunged deep into a heated discussion about the TV adaptation of _Game of Thrones_ , but a group of students from the year above just walked past in the hallway and couldn’t stop themselves from chanting the cursed anthem. 

“If you didn’t blush so much, they wouldn’t tease us like that,” Dean says, avoiding his eyes. “They just like to make you react.”

A big ball of anger forms in Castiel’s chest, spurring an acidic taste up his throat. He’s really mad all of the sudden. He didn’t ask for this, didn’t ask for the popular boy to become his friend and bring with him his pack of annoying, entitled friends. He was fine before Dean came along and became all he could think about, day and night. He was _fine_ being the president of the chess club, with his dorky friends talking about nerd things and going through the hallways unnoticed, without this ridiculous life ruining crush about leaf green eyes and candy pink lips.

“Maybe if you stopped screaming at them,” he spits back. “If they feed on anyone’s reaction, it’s yours. You know there are worst things in life than being teased about kissing the school’s gay nerd,” Cas blurts out before he can stop it.

His whole body seems to beat at the rhythm of his heart as he shoves his books in his bags and walks out, not looking back. He’s shaking, on the verge of tears, and he can’t believe he actually said those things out loud - let alone to _Dean_.

Thankfully the bathroom is empty when he barges in, and Cas spends a good fifteen minutes just breathing in and out, slowly, trying to calm down. He still has a whole afternoon sitting next to Dean to face.

 

Dean ends up not showing up for class after lunch, and Cas pretends he doesn’t care. His heart is lodged somewhere near his adam’s apple and he’s not sure if what he did earlier was some kind of coming out, but he’s convinced that it ruined whatever kind of friendship he had going on with Dean.

Stomach heavy and churning, Cas still decides to text him, since they have a tutoring session scheduled tonight. He can mourn their destroyed friendship at will later, but the guy is still a bright kid and he deserves to pass his classes.

_**C** : Are you still coming to tutoring?_

_**D** : yeah yeah I'll be there_

_**D** : don't worry_

_**C** : Good._

 Cas sits down at their usual table and drags his books out of his bag. A few silent minutes later, his phones buzzes again.

_**D** : I'm sorry about earlier, I didn't mean to upset you. are you mad?_

_**C** : it's fine. I'm sorry too._

_**D** : :) :)_

_**D** : cool_

 Cas can’t refrain a small smile. He waits for a few minutes, then checks the time.

_**C** : You're late._

_**D** : I know sorryyyyy I'll be like another 10 min can you wait??_

_**C** : Sure._

Fifteen minutes later, Cas texts him again. Dean doesn’t answer this time. The warm feeling of relief that showered over him when he thought Dean would show up, when he thought maybe things would go back to the way things were, quickly drains out of him. Dean’s never been late for their lessons before; actually he’s always early, ridiculously eager for someone who likes to pretends not to care about schoolwork.

_**C** : Where are you?_

_**C** : Dean?_

_C:?????_

Today’s been a rollercoaster of shitty emotions and Cas is getting really, really tired. The nights are cold, the library is humid and freezing and he just wants to be home. He should go, and every tick of the clock that passes makes Cas wonder why he’s still sitting there, waiting for a guy who’s obviously not going to come.

Finally his phone screen lights up again.

_**D** :Crap. sorry, I really thought I could make it but something came up._

_**C** : whatever_

_**D** : I'm really sorry Cas_

Cas doesn’t bother answering. He shoves his phone in his pocket - feels it buzzing, but it doesn’t matter - and roughly grabs his book before stomping out of the library.

He can’t believe he let Dean play him like that, that he let a stupid, _stupid_ boy give him stupid hope that he might show up for - whatever. It’s not like it was a date, it was just tutoring, but it was _their_ thing, and Cas thought, maybe hoped, that for Dean it wasn’t just about his grades. Obviously, that was a silly idea.

Cas is seething with dark, brooding anger as he makes his way home. He keeps picturing Dean, probably with a girl, probably making out (because let’s face it, that’s probably why he didn’t come), and he swears, if he met him on the street right now he could freaking punch the guy. There is _no_ excuse for making Cas wait like this, for asking him to stay, for making him lose his time when he could have been at home instead of freezing his ass in the library. Cas wouldn’t have waited for anyone else, but because of that stupid crush, of his stupid hopes that maybe Dean’s interest in him might go further than just getting an A in algebra - but obviously, Dean can easily find something better to do than spend time with him.

 

When Cas finally reaches his house, shivering with fury and cold, he notices a light in his front yard that makes him frown. He walks closer, and realizes that fifty mason jars have been laid into a large circle around the largest tree of the front yard, each lit with their own individual candle. Cas’ heart throbs in his chest.

A pair of feet in hanging from his favourite branch. When Cas recognizes the pair of sneakers, he thinks his eyes are betraying him. It can’t be. Yet when he arrives under the covers of the branches and steps in the circle of lights, he looks up to meet Dean’s dazzling smile and his sparkling green eyes.

“Hey.”

Cas feels his face stretching into a large, irrepressible smile.

“Hello.”

Cas can’t believe his eyes. He’s not even sure what to think, exactly, what _this_ is. Maybe Dean found it this way, maybe his brothers are playing some kind of prank on them. Dean hands out his fingers, grinning.

“Join me?”

Heart and soul threatening to break out of his chest, Cas grabs on to Dean’s hand with his own sweaty palm and hauls himself up to Dean’s level, where he sits next to him on the large branch, feet hanging in the hair. Their arms brush, Dean turns towards him, face half lit by the dim light of the fifty jars.

Their faces are close and Cas’ breath accelerates, stopping for a moment when Dean reaches out and takes his hand, interlacing their fingers, exactly like Cas wished to do so many times.

“Sorry about this morning. I was a jerk.”

“I forgive you.”

(Cas would forgive anything, with Dean’s bow shaped lips so close to his own.)

“I needed some time to think,” Dean says. “And… sorry about the waiting at the library. I kinda needed to keep you away while I set everything up.”

“And _what_ did you set up, exactly?”

Dean smiles cheekily, ducking his head, face heated.

“Well, y’know, if they’re gonna sing about it…”

He looks up, meeting Castiel’s eyes, and then leans over. Cas takes in a sharp breath, like he would if he was standing on top of the tallest tree in the world and about to jump into the void without a safety net. He feels Dean’s lips laying a soft kiss on his mouth, and then pulling back slightly, like unsure if it was the right thing to do. Cas moves closer, presses their lips back together, letting out a moan. He saw people kissing in movies, he read about it in books, but he never thought it would be like this, so soft, and wet, and _smooth_. Dean’s lips are plump, a little humid, they taste sweet, and Cas realizes he could very easily forget to breathe and pass out, if it meant to always have them pressed against his own.

Finally they pull back. Dean is smiling, his eyes have darkened, but not in a sad way, in good, warm way.

“Might as well give them a reason to, right?” he finishes.

Cas nods, unable to stop looking at that mouth, feeling his whole body heat up. He must look like a boiled tomato right about now, but he doesn’t care. He slides closer to Dean along the branch, tightens their fingers together, and kisses him again.

“Watcha guys doing up there?”

A nagging voice brutally interrupts them, and Dean lets out a disatisfied noise when they’re forced to detach their lips again. Cas looks down to find a bunch of his brothers (and their friends, the louder performers of the choir) looking up at them right underneath their feet.

Cas glances over at Dean, but he doesn’t seem embarrassed - the flush of his cheeks probably came from the thing Cas did with his tongue just a few seconds before they pulled apart.

“We’re doing exactly what you think we’re doing,” Cas teases, taken over by a new surprising courage.

“Damn, little bro!”

Cas feels Dean’s hand slipping around his waist, pulling him against his chest, laying soft kisses on his cheek, in his neck. He shivers. Dean turns back to their small audience.

“Now guys, if you don’t mind, we’d kind of like to go back to the _K-I-S-S-I-N-G_ …”

Cas doesn’t know if they started singing or not after that, but he really doesn’t care.

 

 


End file.
